Aides
by ashestoashesanddusttodust
Summary: Loosely connected drabbles. Guy x Kyle
1. Chapter 1

**Aides  
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**A Word**: I have zero confidence in my ability to portray the awesomeness that is Guy. Apologies.

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Kyle has been around long enough that being thrown head first through a wall doesn't phase him much anymore. Getting tossed through the air is actually getting old, and his body automatically twists now to orient himself for a blast of his own before he can gain control of his flight. He's been hit and tossed and thrown so many times that he could probably qualify for TBI studies on Earth.

It's nothing new for him, nothing he really thinks about. There's no _reason_ for him to think about it beyond how much it might have hurt.

"-and when all else fails," Guy says from behind Kyle. The only warning he gets before strong hands grab him around his stomach. _Lifts_ and _flips_ him onto the ground, Guy's muscled forearm pressing lightly against Kyle's throat as he addresses the still too awed rookies. "Too many Lanterns rely on the ring and forget a good ol' fashioned show of force can do wonders."

Kyle's been in this position before. Too many times. It's not the first time, not even with Guy pinning him down. There's no good goddamn reason why his heart should speed up, and his breath catch in his throat. No reason for the shiver that curls down his spine and sends a way too warm feeling to his dick.

Kyle should be biting back the instinctive urge to blast Guy's smug grin off his face. Should be twisting to the left to exploit the natural give in Guy's arm. He should be doing a lot of things, but Kyle's not doing anything except lying perfectly still and quiet under Guy. Feeling the strength of the arm across his throat, light enough for him to breath but firm enough that Kyle couldn't move even if he wanted to. Feeling the thick thighs caging him in, and remembering how _easily_ Guy had picked him up and put Kyle exactly where he wanted him.

He has a brief and devastatingly vivid daydream about how that'd translate in the bedroom. Guy using nothing but his muscles to arrange Kyle however he liked. Holding hims still so that he had no choice but to _take_ what Guy gave. Kyle damns his brain and shoves Guy off with a big green fist that flows naturally into Guy's favorite one-fingered salute. "And some Lanterns don't rely on their rings enough. So it's a balancing act, really."

There's really no good goddamn reason for Kyle to be discovering new kinks at his age. Especially not ones that go hand in hand with an attraction that he's barely acknowledged yet. Forget trying to figure out how to deal with it.

Guy snickers and stretches out on the plot of ground he's come to rest on. Arms crossed behind his head as he looks Kyle over. Eyes lingering more than they should. The smirk and raised eyebrow are pure asshole and Kyle's already groaning even as Guy opens his mouth, "You rely on your ring for _that_ kinda problem too? Kinky, Kyle."

The rookies are confused. Alien Anatomy 101 -"And how to fuck it!" Guy crows in his head, _goddammit_- is a later course fortunately. Kyle rolls over onto his front with as much dignity as he can manage and rearranges his suit with a thought to make certain things less obvious. Guy's expectantly silent.

"You bet," Kyle says, ignoring Guy's gleeful crow of laughter. It's an idea. One that Kyle wouldn't have played with on his own -_goddammit_ Guy- but it's there now, and Kyle isn't inclined to ignore it. Sex with constructs is only a little more satisfying to him than using his own hand, but the thought of a Guy shaped construct holding Kyle to the bed is intriguing enough to make Kyle shift uncomfortably. So much for not acknowledging that attraction. "Dammit, Guy."

Guy is, of course, unrepentant, as he stands and offers a hand up, "Need a _hand_ or is that not relying on the ring enough for you?" The unholy glee at the double entendre gives Kyle a brief preview of what his immediate future is going to be like.

A small eternity of hand and jerking jokes that'll get them those side-eye looks that Guy's so damn fond of. Kyle's never going to hear the end of this. Par for the course with Guy. Kyle really questions his brains choices sometimes.

The recruits are still confused, and too new still to butt in and demand explanations like they should. Kyle smiles grimly and adds another layer to his clothes. Pointedly ignoring Guy's laughter and bad innuendo as they finish one of the most boring lectures the Corps gives. Looking forward to the little experiment he's going to conduct as soon as he's got a door between him and the world.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Maybe He's Born With It  
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**A Word**: It's true though. Guy's eyes can be pretty ridiculous.

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"Fuck, man," Guy squints down at the sketchbook he'd liberated from Kyle's hand. His face wrinkling comically as he held it out at arms length and tilted the thing the opposite way of his head. "Why you always make me look so _girly_/?"

"What?" Kyle can't help the grin that crosses his face even as he finishes wiping up an unholy mix of liquid off the counter that's begun to smoke slightly. Giving off a faint odor that his mind can't help but label as strawberry even though it really doesn't compare. "You're not girly, Guy."

"No shit," Guy sets the book down on the counter and slides it down to Kyle's end with a tiny mouse construct which manages to avoid all but one of the glasses leftover from their closing crowd. "So how come you always _draw_ me like I am?"

Kyle dumps the rag into a bucket of water and cleaner Guy bought off world and neither of them could pronounce without downing a few beers first. His sketchbook is open to a half finished profile drawing that Kyle started months ago and just never got around to finishing. Guy's smirking at someone and looks ready to let loose with something vaguely helpful and entirely assholish. A common enough look on Guy that Kyle can't even place what event he'd been trying to capture with pencil and paper. Kyle tilts his head and studies the picture.

Guy's jaw is square and firm, his ears sticking out almost comically from his head. It's a profile picture but even from the side it's easy to see how broad his shoulders are, and the angle is best to show off his huge biceps and barrel chest. Kyle turns back to Guy who's stacking some dirty glasses into a basket to take back to the kitchen. "What are you going on about? There's nothing girly about this at all."

Guy snorts and wanders down the bar, the basket floating after him. "Like hell it's not. What's up with the eyelashes, man?"

"The-" Kyle looks at the page again. Locking in on the lines that make up Guy's squinting eyes and lashes. Kyle looks at them, bemused and uncomprehending. Whatever Guy's seeing there isn't really apparent to Kyle. "What do you mean what's up with them? They're your _eyelashes_, Guy."

"And they're girly, and," Guy frowns as he jabs his fingers at the paper, waving them as he searches for a word, "and _long_!"

Kyle laughs, and dodges the punch Guy aims at his arm. "Guy, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your eyelashes really _are_ long."

"Fuck you, they're not!" Guy scowled as he swiped the glasses off the bar. Pausing to squint into the reflective glass of an empty. Turning his head to try and find something in the distorted image. Disgruntled suspicion plain on his face, and Kyle has to bite back another laugh because the squint eyed look only makes Guy's lashes stand out even more. "Are they?"

"They are," Kyle flips his sketchbook closed and sets it on an already clean and dry patch of the bar before going at another spill of liquid with the rag that's turned slightly green. "You've got ridiculously long eyelashes. I know women who would _kill_ to have what you've got."

"Of course they would. Who wouldn't want to be as awesome as me?" Guy's response is automatic and obviously out of his mouth before the man's had a chance to think about it given the way he grimaces afterwards. He shrugs it off quickly and heaves an exaggerated sigh as he sweeps away the last of the glasses. "It's a burden I tell ya, being this awesome. It ain't as easy as I make it look."

"Sure," Kyle let's his voice go high and sweet as he grins down at the bar. "Must be so hard being perfect."

"Damn right," Guy snorts and turns away to walk to the kitchen. His head turns as he passes the mirrored wall that runs behind the rows of alcohol behind the bar. Kyle pretends not to notice as Guy turns his head to left then the right. Scowl growing as he peers through the multicolored bottles. "Dammit, Kyle."

"Guy, long lashes aren't girly," Kyle relents, because Guy's going to obsess about this now. Get a little self conscious until he realizes what he's doing and then goes overboard to over compensate for something so small. "Lot's of guys have them. Most people don't notice, or care really."

"Whatever," Guy kicks the swinging door open and stops it from swinging closed with a shoulder. Sending a glare Kyle's way. "Hurry up and finish with the counter. I got a really hot date tonight that I don't want to miss."

"Yeah?" Kyle shouts as Guy disappears, the door swinging shut with a bang. "With what, your bed and a pillow?"

"Don't talk shit about the missus!" Guy shouts over the faint clank of glass. The sound carrying perfectly into the bar area. Kyle works his way down the counter swiftly. "We're gonna be entertaining Mrs. Rosie Palm and her five daughters tonight! Don't want to keep the ladies waiting!"

"Oh, god, Guy!" Kyle chokes on a laugh and bangs his head down on the wet bar. Shaking with helpless giggles. "I didn't need that image, you asshole!"

"Jealous!" Guy's cackle echoes demonically in the kitchen, and Kyle once again wonders if the man had designed the kitchen to do that deliberately. "Aren't you done yet? I want to be out of here in the next hour!"

Kyle straightens up and gives the bar one last swipe. Eyes scanning the tables one last time even though they've already put the chairs up and swept and mopped the floor.

"The hell're you doing, Kyle?" Guy pushes the door open and gives him an unimpressed look as Kyle picks up his bucket of interestingly colored water and chemicals. A few suds are stuck on Guy's hands from hand washing the few really delicate glassware that some of the drinks demand. He leers, broad and obvious at Kyle. "Curling your hair? You got your own hot date you're not telling me about?"

"I was looking for your mascara, you got to look your best for your girls, right?" Kyle flicks his rag at Guy's shoulder as he shoves past him into the kitchen. "They'd be so disappointed if you didn't show up with your best Covergirl Bambi eyes."

Kyle nearly drops the bucket as Guy shoves him, laughing, headfirst into the frothy blue bubbles of the sink.

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End file.
